Your Weird Wish is Granted
by Baron Hausenpheffer
Summary: My collection of DBZ humor tales, revealing the wacky misadventures and unfortunate incidents they DIDN'T show you on TV. Black tights, malfunctioning powers, and more!
1. Tiny Black Pants

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball (original, Z, or GT). Akira Toriyama does, along with thousands of money-grubbing companies worldwide.

Author Note: Don't kill me for this, okay? I love all of these characters... it just so happens that I also love making fun of them. (_grin_)

* * *

"Son, I just finished the laundry. Come and get your clothes!" called King Cold from the utility room of their palatial mansion.

Grumbling, Frieza strolled in and grabbed the laundry basket. Why the emperor of the universe couldn't hire someone other than his father to wash his clothes is indeed a mystery, but we won't dwell on that right now. Frieza picked it up and was about to walk back to his room when he took a good, long look at the basket's contents. The longer Frieza looked, the more furious he became.

Finally losing patience, he whirled around and demanded, "Father! Please remind me again why I have to wear these!"

King Cold looked up from his knitting to see Frieza holding up a pair of those little black tights that he always wore. Sighing, King Cold said, "Son, we've been through this a thousand times. You have to wear those because otherwise you'd be naked from the waist down. This is an anime, after all, not a Disney cartoon."

"That's not what I meant!" Frieza snapped. "What I want to know is why do I have to wear **these** stupid things! They make me look like a freakin' homosexual, for crying out loud!"

"Well, you are voiced by a woman, you know..." King Cold replied, chuckling.

"**Don't change the subject!**" Frieza roared. "It's not just me; you wear them, and so does everyone in our army. Now, either you tell me why or I'll throw a tantrum!"

King Cold's heart momentarily stopped beating. The last time Frieza had thrown a tantrum, he destroyed three galaxies, committed 322 seperate cases of genocide, wrecked the family car, and even ate Cooler's comic book collection!

"_There's no telling what that boy might do this time..._" the purple tyrant nervously thought. "_He's so unbelievably **naughty**; I have taught him well._"

"Very well, my son," King Cold said, setting his needlework aside. "I will tell you the story of how the sacred 'tiny black pants' came to be our national symbol. Believe it or not, it is a tragic tale involving your dearly departed mother..."

_80 years ago..._

_"Happy birthday, honey!" King Cold exclaimed, handing her a wrapped present._

_"Oh, Darling, you shouldn't have!" she squealed, opening it. Inside, she found a beautiful pair of black, silk panties._

_"Oh, my... Cold, you dog!" she giggled, blushing. "They're lovely!"_

_"Yes, I thought so as well," he chuckled. "Very comfortable, too. In fact, I liked them so much that... well..."_

_King Cold parted his robe to reveal that he was wearing an identical pair of lingerie._

_"EEEEEEK!" Queen Fridge screamed, eyes wide with horror. Clutching her chest, she gasped, "Oh... my... my... heart! **URK!**"_

_After a brief but massive heart attack, she fell to the floor dead. Picking her up in his arms, King Kold wailed, "NOOOOOOOOO!"_

_Present day..._

"We never discovered what caused your mother's death, but we decided to adopt tiny black panties as our national uniform in her memory," King Cold sobbed. "After all, she loved them so!"

"... Father?"

"Yes, son?"

"**_DEATH BEAM!_**"

"I... do say, Frieza... that hurt," a tiny pile of ashes whimpered.

"Screw you, Father!" Frieza sneered, removing his silky black uniform. "From now on, I'm going nudist! WAAAAAHAHAHA!"

"No, son! Come back!" the remains of King Cold pled. As Frieza dashed out of sight, he muttered, "Your mother would be so ashamed..."

THE END

--------------------------------------

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Hahahaha! Anyhoo, this is the first of a several-part collection of DBZ funnies. Keep an eye out for further updates, but don't expect them to come pouring in quickly (I'm really slow).

I hope you enjoyed my nonsense, but please drop me a review regardless. Thanks!


	2. Armed and Dangerous

"_Ah, I love relaxing on Kami's lookout,_" a certain green alien thought contentedly. "_Perhaps it's because part of me used to **be** Kami. Still, it's so nice and peaceful... No one to bother you in miles..._"

"Hey, greenie..."

"_Sigh..._ What do you want, Vegeta?" Piccolo asked, opeing one eye. The supremely arrogant "Prince of Saiyans" was scowling at the meditating Namek.

"I heard from Kakarot that you **PITIFUL** Nameks can regenerate limbs," he informed him. "I want you to admit that it's a lie."

"Hmph. It's no lie; all Nameks can grow back lost appendages, just like Earth's lizards," Piccolo smugly replied. "It's child's play for us."

"_What? Can it truly be that Nameks have a power that we Saiyans do not?_" Vegeta wondered anxiously. "_No, it cannot be! We Saiyans are the greatest creatures in the universe!_"

"Oh, yeah?" Vegeta snarled. "Well, I can regenerate limbs, too! Watch!"

_**SPPPPPPRRRRRTTTT!**_

"YAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!" Vegeta screamed in agony, holding his severed arm in his hands. "N-now... just... you... watch... AAAAGGGHH!"

Slapping his face, Piccolo grumbled, "Vegeta, you moron. We went through this last week. Not all races have the same powers. For example, humans can't become super saiyans. Neither can Nameks. By the same token, saiyans can't comb their hair or pretend not to be jackasses."

"Curse you, Namek, for tricking me!" Vegeta whined. Feeling sheepish, he shouted, "Well, if it's **so** easy, let's see you do it!"

"If you insist," Piccolo chuckled. With nary a cringe, he pulled off his left arm. Smiling, he said, "Now, watch closely."

"GRRRRRRRRRR!" he grunted. To the great surprise of both of them, an arm sprouted on top of Piccolo's head.

"By the dragon!" he mumbled. "That's never happened before!"

As Vegeta stood by snickering, he pulled the extra arm off his head. Piccolo huffed, "Just a minor setback. Let's try again..."

"GRRRRRRRRRRR!"

**POP!**

"AAAAAAAAAGGGGHHH!" Vegeta screamed like a two-year-old girl. "The queen alien laid an egg in you!"

Piccolo angrily snapped off the arm protruding from his chest. "Don't be stupid! Blast it... I never had my regeneration powers malfunction like this before. Again!"

"GRRRRRRRRR... **ACK!**"

The Namek's face wore an expression of extreme embarassment. Smiling weakly, he muttered, "Pardon me for just a moment..."

As he hobbled off, Vegeta noticed that the Namek seemed to be sporting quite a woody. His brow furrowing, the less-than-intelligent prince thought, "_Hmm... I've never seen a Namek with his pants down, but I never would have thought that he had fingers down there..._"

_**Shhhhrrrrpp!**_

"**YEEEEEOOW!**"

Piccolo reappeared from behind the palm tree where he had been taking refuge. Walking bow-legged, he hobbled back over to Vegeta, who now wore a smug grin.

"Well, not so easy, is it, Mr. Green? Hahahaha!"

"Shut up, Vegeta!" he roared. "I don't need your crap right now. (_takes a deep breath_) Okay. One last time; no holding back."

His aura becoming huge, Piccolo powered up to levels rivaling even that of a super saiyan. "**OKAY! HERE GOES! AAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHH!**"

**Popopopopopopopopopopopopopop!**

"**What the** (_insert your expletive of choice_)?" he thundered. Piccolo was covered from head to foot in dangly arms, makiing him look like some sort of bizarre alien plant.

Meanwhile, Vegeta was rolling around on the floor in convulsions of laughter. "HAHAHAHAHAHA! This is so funny that I can't stand it! S-say, Namek... could you give me a hand? Get it? 'Hand'? HAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA--**OW! OW! AAAAAAGGGH! Curse you, you filthy Namek!**"

Muttering obscenities under his breath, "Piccolo of the Many Arms" walked away from the now-completely-armless Prince of Arrogance.

"Darn it... that's the last time I experiment with Viagra..." Piccolo sighed.

THE END

-------------------------------------

Don't worry, Vegeta. "It's only a flesh wound!" Heh, heh, heh.

Judging from the lack of reviews, I must have done a really bad job marketing this thing so far. If you would just take a moment of your time to review this story, it would make me happy enough to sprout an arm from my kneecap. Pleeeeease?


	3. The Name Game

Author Note: This story isn't nearly as silly as the two preceding it, but I hope you find it just as funny (and perhaps even a tad sweet).

* * *

"Okay, Chichi. What is it you wanted to talk about?" Goku asked, sitting cross-legged in the Son living room.

"Well," she said, blushing, "I have some good news. Remember the other day when--HEY! Stop playing with that caterpillar and pay attention!"

"Huh? Oh, yes'm!" he said, snapping back to reality.

"As I was saying, do you remember the other day when you said that you wouldn't mind having a bigger family?" she queried. "Well... you'll get your wish. I'm pregnant!"

"Oh..." he said.

After blinking a few times, Chichi shouted, "What do you mean, 'oh'? Is that all you have to say?"

"Well, I'm happy and everything," Goku replied, smiling. "It's just a big surprise."

"_Well, I suppose I can't blame him,_" Chichi thought, her expression softening. "_After all, with two boys already and me being the age I am, I can see where he would be surpr--_"

"I just thought that you were getting fat," Goku chuckled.

"**Whyyyyyyy you!**" Chichi fumed. "**DIE! **(_thinks for a few seconds_) **AGAIN!**"

Despite all of the training he endured under the Kais, it turned out that a sofa (when thrown by an enraged woman) can still knock Goku unconscious.

-----------------------

_Four months later..._

"**T-t-t-triplets!**" Chichi screamed, trying not to faint.

"Yes, ma'am. If all goes well, in five more months you'll be the mother of three healthy babies!" the doctor told her, washing his hands.

"Oh, boy!" Goku exclaimed, elated at the thought of three new training dummies... er... children.

"Oh, well..." Chichi sighed, resigned to her fate. "What sex are they?"

"According to the ultrasound, you're carrying two boys and a girl," the doctor replied.

"A girl? That's great!" Chichi beamed, brightening considerably. "I love my sons, but I've always wanted another woman around the house. How nice!"

"Any name ideas yet?" the doctor asked, trying to make small talk.

Before Chichi could even open her mouth, Goku blurted out, "Their names are Gogo, Gobert, and Gokina!"

"Now, just a minute!" Chichi snapped. "Haven't we had enough 'Go-' names?"

Goku whined, "But it's so much better than--"

"Than what?" she erupted, grabbing him by the collar. "Than the names I've suggested? Than Ryuunosuke, Hitoshi, Ukyo, Megumi, or Haruna? Than Steve, Pete, Gary, Sonia, or Sue? Heck, better than Marron or Trunks? **Why is it always about you, Goku?**"

"Because I'm the main character," he flatly stated.

"Whatever! I'm naming these three," she proclaimed, "and that's final!"

"Um... can I leave now?" the doctor sheepishly asked.

-----------------------

_Master Roshi's house, four more months later..._

"And so I've come to you guys for help," Chichi concluded, glancing at them hopefully. "I thought that coming up with names would be easy, but at this rate we'll have three more 'Go-kids'. Do you have any ideas?"

The others stared thoughtfully at the expectant mother. Chichi, now extremely pregnant (nine months), was sitting on the sofa with her hands clasped her hands around her bulging abdomen. It was plain to see from the look in her eyes that she was desperate, and their hearts went out to her.

"And Gohan and Goten haven't come up with any good names?" Yamcha asked. "They were always really creative kids."

"Feh. As usual, they're siding with their father," Chichi replied with a hint of annoyance. "As for Dad, I love him to death but 'Ox King Jr.' is just a bit too... old fashioned."

"Yeah, um, 'old fashioned'..." Oolong replied, sweatdropping.

"Well, any ideas, guys?" she asked with a tired sigh.

After a few moments of silence, Chaotzu said, "I know! How about 'Gogurt'?"

"No!" Chichi shouted. "Besides, that's an overpriced kid's dessert!"

"Name one 'Gokart', then!" Tien suggested.

"Again, no!" the world's strongest woman growled.

"Howsabout 'Goaway'?" Bulma said, smiling. "That's a good name!"

"**No--it--isn't!**" she fumed.

"You should name the girl 'Goesoutwitholdmen'," Dende said with a grin.

"What planet are you from?" Chichi snapped. "Oh... right. Namek."

"Hmm... Akira Toriyama?" Piccolo ventured.

"Now, who would name their kid that?" she scoffed.

"Little Vegeta 1, 2, and 3!" Vegeta proclaimed. "That is what they shall be named!"

"Don't make me kill you..." Chichi threatened darkly, shutting the arrogant prince up.

"Wait! I've got it!" Master Roshi exclaimed. "Name them Cindy, Mindy, and Lindy!"

"B-but two of them are boys, Roshi!" she reminded him.

"Who cares? Those three are the best stippers in 'Dirty Old Man' magazine!" he cackled.

For a moment, everyone thought that she was going to clobber the old fart. Instead, the poor, stressed out woman broke down and began crying. Everyone in the room felt awful. Despite their best efforts, they couldn't seem to come up with names to please her.

"Chichi..." Android 18 said, putting an arm around her. "Name one 'Ryu'."

"H-huh?" she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. Managing a smile, she said, "You know, that was a name I was thinking of when we had Gohan..."

"Sure, that's a great name!" Krillin said, patting her on the back. "Come to think of it, how about naming the other boy 'Yoshi'? That's a nice name."

"You know, it is!" Chichi said, the half-smile becoming a full-blown grin. Why hadn't she thought of this earlier? Of all the weirdos her husband associated with, only two had managed to name their kid something that was neither stupid nor a bad pun: Krillin and 18!

"I still think 'Gogetem' would be better..." Trunks muttered, warranting a quick blow to the head from his father.

"Ms. Chichi?" a soft voice to the left of the couch spoke up. Looking over the side, Chichi saw that it was little Marron.

"Hello, Marron! Do you have an idea, too?" she giggled, picking the girl up and setting her on her lap (a tight squeeze, but she still fit).

Marron nodded and whispered something into her ear. Chichi grinned and rubbed her head.

"Y'know, kiddo, I just might have to use that..."

-----------------------

_A few weeks later..._

"**WAAAAAAH! W-WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!**"

"And that's the last of them!" the doctor said, handing Chichi her fourth son. "So, did you and your husband ever agree on names for them?"

Ignoring part of the question, she pointed and said, "He's named Ryu, this little guy is Yoshi, and her name is Sarah."

"Those are fine names!" he laughed. "I have to say that they're much nicer that 'Gobert' or whatever your husband suggested. Nurse, please put those names on their birth certificates."

After following the doctor's instructions, the nurse walked down the hall to file them with the records office.

Glancing at Sarah, the doctor cleared his throat and said, "I am curious about something, though. If you don't mind my asking, why did you give the girl a Western name?"

"Well... a friend suggested it," Chichi replied, trying to supress a giggle. Marron's actual suggestion had been "Sarah Pancake", but this was close enough. Besides, by the time her daughter got to school, she would probably be grateful for the omission.

Chichi was just about to nurse the new additions to her family when she saw what looked like a huge caterpillar (with spiky hair) scurrying down the hall. "What the heck?" she thought. "How in the world did he escape?"

"Doctor, hold the kids for a moment," Chichi commanded, handing the three crying babies over to him. He was about to protest, but the scary look of enraged determination on her face silenced his complaints.

-----------------------

"Darn that Chichi!" Goku growled, crawling on his belly down the hall. The moment labor had set in, his wife (determined to keep the past from repeating itself) tied her husband up in ki-suppressing tape, tossed him in the janitor's closet, and locked the door from the outside. Luckily, Goku had managed to pick the lock with his hair.

"If I can just get to the records office before that nurse does, then I can stop this tragedy!" he grunted, doubling his speed. "Don't worry Gogo, Gobert, and Gokina! I won't let your mother mess your lives up with her stupid ideas!"

All of the sudden, Goku noticed a blue slipper lying on the floor.

"_Huh. A slipper,_" he thought. "_And look at that! There's a leg in it. Now where have I seen that sexy leg before?_"

As Goku looked up, his tiny brain suddenly realized that he was staring at his wife. "Umm... Hi, Chichi! Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Sure..." she muttered, cracking her knuckles. "As soon as I safeguard my children's future... **even if I have to threaten their father's future to do it!**"

The nurse taking a coffee break in the next room listened fascinated as the sounds of bones breaking, punches and kicks landing, and cries of "PLEASE, NO! NOT THE HAIR!" wafted inside.

"_Man, the maternity room gets more brutal every year,_" she thought, taking another sip of coffee.

THE END

--------------------------------------

Another week, another exercise in stupidity. I hope I don't sound like a Goku-basher; it's just that Chichi lets him get away with a lot more than she should (for example, flying off on 8-year training missions for no particular reason). I guess she's just a patient lady.

Please review; I hope you will, yes I do. Toodles!


	4. The Kitty From Hades

Author Notes: This was written in response to a review by Sprinting Whippet, who requested a Yamcha story. The desert bandit happens to be a favorite character of mine as well, so I figured, "Why not?"

Anyway, here it is, and I hope you all have fun with this. (I did.)

**_WARNING!_ - Incurable cat-lovers may want to forgo this fic. Trust me when I say "this won't end well." If you choose to disregard this warning, do so at your own risk and not mine (i.e. don't go flaming me, please). Yee've been warned, youngsters...

* * *

**

"But Bulma--" 

"No buts, Yamcha!" the blue-haired girl growled. "You're going to watch after Thin Lizzie while I'm away tonight, and that's final."

"But why me? Why do I have to babysit your stupid cat?" the desert bandit whined.

"Everyone else is busy, and it wouldn't kill you to help me out for once," she retorted. "Now, I'm off. Take good care of her, okay?"

As he watched Bulma walk out the door, Yamcha got the sinking feeling that he was in for a rough night. Thin Lizzie had lived at Bulma's house ever since the former bandit's first visit there, and Bulma loved that cat like a sister. Unfortunately for Yamcha, Lizzie was a very mean, spiteful, envious sibling that didn't like anyone except her owner.

"Yamcha, is it safe to come out?" a small voice squeaked from behind a potted plant.

"Yeah, Puar. Bulma's gone," Yamcha said, amused at his friend.

The cat-like creature floated up to eye level and sighed, "Yamcha, you really should find another girlfriend. Bulma may be pretty, but she's so violent and bossy. What's more, I'm beginning to wonder if she's unfaithful to you!"

"Now, now, Puar," Yamcha cautioned him. "Just because she's been going out at night lately is no reason to suspect infidelity on her part."

With a look akin to an adult frustrated with a stupid child, Puar grumbled, "And you don't think it's the least bit strange that she's been helping Vegeta renovate his hotel room... every night... **all night long?**"

Yamcha began sweating profusely; he had been trying very hard not to think about that. He sputtered, "I h-have total faith in Bulma. She'd never betray me, right?"

_Two weeks later..._

"**PREGNANT? WITH VEGETA'S KID? Bulma, you two-dollar whore! You (**_bleep_**) mother-(**_bleep_**) sleep-around slut! You probably carry more diseases than a biological weapon!**"

_Present day..._

"Like I said, complete trust. That's what a good relationship is based off of," Yamcha beamed.

"Yeah... anyway, where's the cat?" Puar asked.

"I dunno. That's a good question," he replied, looking around.

**CHOMP!**

"**ACK! Yamcha, get it off meeeeee!**" Puar screamed.

Whirling around, Yamcha saw to his horror that Thin Lizzie was attempting to devour his best buddy whole. The title "thin" was a joke Yamcha applied to the vicious feline; the gargantuan puddy-tat actually weighed well over a hundred pounds.

"Let'm go, Garfield!" Yamcha roared at the cat.

It looked up at Yamcha with a "Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?" look.

"WOLF-FANG FIST!" the bandit snarled. Sadly, the deviously intelligent cat spit Puar out just in time for the attack to hit him instead of it.

**SPLAT!**

"Oh, no! I've squashed my best friend!" wailed Yamcha, scooping the pan-cat off the floor.

"Get him... for me... Yamcha!" Puar gasped before losing consciousness.

Yamcha glared at the fuzzy, white sumo-cat with fire in his eyes. "How dare you? Thin Lizzie, you monster... I'll see you destroyed!"

Adopting the famous Turtle-Hermit pose, he shouted, "KAMEHAMEHA!"

**BOOM!**

Thin Lizzie barely managed to dodge the blast in time. A look of panic came over Lizzie as she realized that her opponent meant business. Waddling toward Yamcha at breakneck speed, she suddenly sprang upward and attatched herself to his head.

"**GAH!** Get it off me!" he shrieking, screaming in agony as it clawed his face.

Finally, Yamcha managed to pry Lizzie loose and toss her aside. Clutching his face, he dropped to his knees. Not only did the humongous cat reopen every last one of his scars (almost healed, too!), but she had blanketed his eyes in so much cat hair that he couldn't see. He realized with an anxious feeling that he would be fighting blind for the duration of the battle.

"Meow, ha, ha!" the wicked kitty cackled. It began bounding back and forth, biting and scratching him as it pounced.

"_If this keeps up, I'm finished!_" Yamcha thought in alarm. "_I must rely on the wise teachings of my masters to get me through this..._"

His mind began cycling through the wisdom his various teachers had dispensed:

**Master Roshi**: "Yamcha, ya got a woman with big bazoos. Hold onto 'em... I mean 'her', tight."

**Kami**: "Remember, eat your prunes and it'll keep you regular."

**King Kai**: "Did you hear the one about the serpent who failed his test? He made too many mis-snakes! Waaahahahaha!"

"_Holy crap, no wonder I'm always dying! My teachers were absolutely freakin' worthless!_" Yamcha finally realized. "_I guess I'll have to do this the Yamcha way if I want any chance of survival..._"

Switching into "Daredevil" mode, he began to try to sense his surroundings. To his consternation, he couldn't sense a darn thing because of the racket Thin Lizzie made every time her flabby body connected with the floor!

"Wait a minute! That's it! The ridiculously loud and obvious sound her impact makes!" Yamcha shouted, elated. Turning toward the site of the latest "THUMP!", he adopted his trademark fighting stance.

"**Wolf-fang kitty-impaling fist!**" he bellowed, attacking with unspeakable fury.

**KER-SPLAT!**

Now that he didn't have to guard himself from the fiend's sharp claws and pointy teeth, Yamcha wiped some of the cat fur out of his eyes so he could see. It wasn't a pretty sight; Lizzie had basically exploded on impact, leaving only her head sitting atop a pile of gore.

"Hooray! Mission accomplished!" Yamcha crowed, dancing a jig in celebration. Just then, he heard the doorbell ring, and his heart fell to his big toe. Bulma was home! How was he going to explain this?

As he ran to answer the door, one thought kept racing through Yamcha's head: "_I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead._"

The moment he opened the door, he heard Bulma gasp in alarm. Her hands flying to her mouth, Bulma gasped, "Oh my gosh! Yamcha, what happened to you? You're bleeding like crazy!"

"I... uh..." he choked, trying desperately to come up with a cover story.

"Ooooh, it was awful!" a tiny voice from behind him cried. Turning around, Yamcha was surprised to find Puar awake and on his feet (despite his two black eyes and bloody nose).

Bulma gasped again when she saw Puar's sorry state. Pouting at Yamcha, she shouted, "Hey! Did you two get in a fight or something?"

This, of course, cued two king-sized faceplants. As they picked themselves off the floor, Puar squeaked, "Of course not! But, sadly, we were unable to stop Thin Lizzie from suffering a tragic fate. See?"

Puar pointed at the spot in the hall where the cat's remains still lay. If it weren't for the fact that he felt they were both doomed anyway, Yamcha would have killed Puar! What was he thinking?

"EEEEEEEEEEK!" Bulma screeched. "Wh-what on earth happened to poor Lizzie?"

Before Yamcha could say anything, Puar sobbed, "It was awful, Bulma! She ate all seven dragon balls, someone on TV said 'I wish', and it was all over. We tried to stop her, we really did!"

"Oh, poor Lizzie!" Bulma howled. "She didn't deserve this! Why couldn't it have been Yamcha?"

"**HEY!**"

"And that's not all! She was about to eat your jewelry, too!" Puar added.

At this, Bulma's emotions underwent a 180-degree turnaround. "She WHAT? Then she deserved worse! Yamcha, clean up the remains of that traitor, will you? After that, you can go home."

"S-sure!" Yamcha shouted, nearly unable to hide his joy at cheating death. "Right away!"

---------------------

"Yech... that's the last of her," Yamcha muttered, shoveling something red into the trash. Turning toward Puar, he dropped to his knees, hugged him, and sobbed, "Puar, what you pulled back there was pure genius! I love you, man; you're a true friend!"

"Hey, don't mention it. That's what friends are for, right?" he said, grinning at Yamcha. "And it wasn't genius. You just have to know which buttons to push."

Puar floated up and landed on Yamcha's shoulder, and the two were about to leave when Yamcha got a funny look on his face. Opening the trash can, he pulled out the head and pocketed it.

"Gotta have a momento... this is the first opponent I've beaten since season four of 'Dragon Ball'!"

_Meanwhile, inside the house..._

Looking frustrated, Bulma pulled item after item out of her medicine cabinet. From the looks of things, her search was proving fruitless.

"Darn it! I know I put those birth-control pills in here somewhere..." she said through gritted teeth.

After looking for a few more moments, she finally shrugged and began putting the removed items back inside the cabinet. Shutting it, she muttered, "Oh, well. It's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"

---------------------

_Three weeks after the "Lizzie" incident..._

Yamcha, the legendary desert bandit, sat atop a cliff overlooking the barren, sandy wasteland. Yamcha himself looked nearly as bleak as the landscape; his scars were more pronounced than ever, his clothes were torn and unkempt, he looked miserable, and he obviously hadn't shaved in over a week. Puar sat beside him, staring at his longtime buddy in concern.

"Yamcha... are you going to be all right?" he whispered.

"I don't know, Puar," he answered. "I got mutilated by an obese cat, I found out my girlfriend was carrying another man's kid, my stocks all failed, pirates burned down my house, and then I got violently ill."

Looking pensive, Puar asked, "That was the day Zarbon called to express his undying love for you, right?"

"Let's not talk about it..." Yamcha blurted angrily. Calming down, he remarked, "Yeah, my life has basically fallen down around my ears over the past month. But, I'm not going to let it get to me."

"Attaboy, Yamcha!" Puar exclaimed. "Keep your head held high!"

Standing up to face the sunset, Yamcha said, "Yeah... this is just an opportunity to make a new start. I won't make the same mistakes this time, either. That baseball career was fun, but it made me get soft. It's time to prove what Yamcha the Bandit can really do. Starting today, I'm going to train until I'm the strongest man alive, even stronger than Goku! And I'm going to do it with my new technique..."

At these words, Puar's face went white. "Y-you don't mean THAT technique, do you?"

"Heh, heh, heh... yes, that's the one," Yamcha chuckled, slipping something furry and white onto his hand. Suddenly, he struck a strange, new pose that looked downright eerie in front of the setting sun.

Bathed in crimson light, he held his cat-head-clad hand aloft.

"Better get ready, world... **for the Cat-fang Fist!**"

THE END

----------------------------------------

Man, I'm such a jerk for writing this. PETA's vetenarian-ninjas are probably going to hunt me down and assassinate me. Still, I hope it was awfully funny, as opposed to just being awful.

Interestingly enough, "Thin Lizzie" was based off a real cat of the same name. One of my best friends in high school described his home as "a seething, writhing den of cats" (his mom wouldn't get rid of any of them and wouldn't pay for neutering). His personal favorite was a large, fuzzy monster named "Thin Lizzie" who was reportedly just as I described her here. She was one mean kitty. Luckily, the real Lizzie is alive and well to the best of my knowledge.

Warped though this chapter was, I hope you all enjoyed it! Leave a review, purty please!


End file.
